Singing for a smaller me

Over the weekend a group of friends and I set out on a shopping trip with the intention of buying sports bras. Most of us are members of the well-endowed club so finding an actual supportive sports bra is a nothing short of a miracle.

Our trip took us to Downtown Palo Alto to a little store called Title Nine. Wow. Their sizes don't go up extremely high, but if you're up to a 40 DDD, take a look at their website. This is the home of the Last Resort Sports Bra (which I did NOT buy) - and putting it on is quite a bit like putting on a corset: lots of pushing and pulling the girls and lots of hooks and eyes. I still found quite the corset like sports bra, but with less pushing and pulling and a third of the hooks and eyes - the 3 reasons sports bra. All of a sudden I'm not dreading the 30 Day Shred as much. Hmmm.

In other news of shopping, on Saturday evening I had to throw out one of my favorite pairs of jeans due to the bane of larger women everywhere: chub rub. Ugh. I'm tired of wearing through the thighs of my pants in a year or less!!!!

On a positive note, that same shopping day one of my girlfriends mentioned my pants were looking awfully large. "Really?" said I as I glanced back and noticed the baggy butt and swimming thighs. How have I not noticed this? Guess I'm so used to staying the same size or - heaven forbid - going bigger that it rarely occurs to me that I might need a smaller size in something!

This, my friends, is monumental. It means when I go to Lane Bryant in the next day or two, I will not be buying the Right Size 4 super hip-py pants, but the size 3 super hip-py pants. Holy Cow! And these are the pants I was striving to get back into when I started losing weight.

There you have it - some good, some annoying, and some great. Alright, I'll go squee somewhere else now.